Too Far Gone
by ScoobySnake
Summary: Sam wakes up in a bit of a predicament - he can't remember how he got here, and worse… he can't remember what happened to Dean. Kinda dark, demons, hurt!sam Possible violence in later chapters, some language.
1. Chapter 1

******Disclaimer: Don't own 'em - never have, never will - this is just purely for the hell of it. ****_… No pun intended..._**

**Warnings: lil bit of language, lil bit of violence, lil bit of not appropriate for kids of all ages - but no slash or any of that kinda stuff. **

**….onward!**

Sam smelled something cold. Somewhere on the edge of his consciousness, there was cold. He slowly began to stretch his mind, allowing a little more of the world in. There was… dripping? Something was dripping…

A little more…

His arms ached. No, scratch that, his body ached. He couldn't quite tell which way was up.

Stretching a little more, he tried to move his neck, his arms, his feet, but they all felt like lead. Not even really aware he was doing it, he peeled his eyelids open. Dark fuzziness met his eyes. Was he in the motel room?

He tried to sit up. Wait… he was standing…

As the world became clearer, he realized that his arms were overhead, with something attached to his wrists keeping them there. His ankles appeared to be attached to something too. Hi whole body was stuck, stretching between the ceiling and the floor.

He tried to tug at whatever was holding him, biting back a gasp as his wrists stung from the effort. Something dripping… the sound made it's way back to his ears, and he realized with dull surprise that something wet was running down the left side of his face, droplets falling off his jaw rhythmically.

_Dean_ he thought, fear gripping him. Where was Dean?

What was going on?

As if to answer his question, a sudden creak followed by a woman's voice saying, "Well, look who's finally decided to join us."

Sam craned his neck in the direction of the voice. A light from the doorway blacked out a figure. Obviously, a woman, but he couldn't tell much more than that.

"Whas…" he cleared his throat, "What's going on? Where's Dean?" his demands were not very convincing. His throat was dry and he was still very groggy.

"So the rumors are true," she stated flatly, "We haven't even had a chance to chat and you're already going on about your brother," there were a few clicks, echoing off the walls, and Sam could tell she was moving towards him, "Shame, " she mocked, coming to a stop in front of him.

He could see her more clearly now. She had long blonde hair, pale skin, and bright red lips. She might have been pretty, except for the eyes. Her eyes were completely black.

"You're a demon?" it sounded like a question, although he knew she had to be. He just couldn't understand why a demon would have him tied up here, instead of just killing him and… Dean.

"Where's my brother?" he repeated, far more forcefully this time.

"Don't worry about him," she snapped, giving him a small slap on the cheek. He grimaced at the contact, "I want to talk to _you_ Sammy…" she took a finger and slowly traced it down his cheek, then his neck, then to his chest, which he realized then was bare.

He tried to shift away from her, which of course did nothing, "Where's Dean?" he repeated, this time in a low growl, staring her in the eye.

"Oh, Sammy, I love it when you get angry," she smiled for a moment, then before he knew it, a sharp pain dug into his chest. He closed his eyes trying to muffle a scream, which instead came out as a strangled groan.

"Now, Sam," she took a step back and the pain subsided, "I really would appreciate it if you stopped being so rude."

He raised his head, glaring at her, "Well then," he growled, "I'll be sure to be more polite – bitch."

She was in front of him in one swift movement. His breath caught in his throat as a slender hand wrapped it's way around a clump of hair and pulled. She yanked his head back, and he felt something cold and thin against his neck.

"I _really_ don't like your attitude Sam." Her voice turned to a dangerously low whisper, "Besides, we're practically family, you and I."

**Dun Dun Duuuuuuuun!**

***overly dramatic voice***

**What will happen to our young hero next? And where's Dean?! Will he come rescue Sam? Or is he already…**

**Guess we'll have to fine out next time!**

_**Reviews, ideas, suggestions, and so on are greatly appreciated. **_

_**I have no clue what I'm doing. **_

_**No. Seriously. No. Clue.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Previously on Supernatural...**

"Now, Sam," she took a step back and the pain subsided, "I really would appreciate it if you stopped being so rude."

He raised his head, glaring at her, "Well then," he growled, "I'll be sure to be more polite – bitch."

She was in front of him in one swift movement. His breath caught in his throat as a slender hand wrapped it's way around a clump of hair and pulled. She yanked his head back, and he felt something cold and thin against his neck.

"I _really_ don't like your attitude Sam, " her voice turned to a dangerously low whisper, "Besides, we're practically family, you and I."

**Now...**

"I am nothing like –" but he was cut off by the increased pressure of the knife on his neck.

"Don't interrupt me Sam. Now," she lowered the knife, still holding his hair, "I was going to come I here and try to have a civilized conversation with you… but you had to go and ruin that..." she whined.

Sam grimaced, trying to jerk his head out of her grip, but she only held on tighter, "Fine. If you want to be that way…" she shoved his head forward, letting go of his hair.

"What the fuck did you do with my brother?!" Sam yelled, straining against the chains which held him in place. He was becoming more desperate, he didn't like how she was avoiding his question. What if Dean… no. He couldn't think like that. Maybe they didn't even have Dean. He smirked. That was probably it. She wasn't answering him because they didn't even have him. She was just trying to scare him, get him worked up.

_Well, walked right into that one genius._

A loud yell rang out, bringing his attention back to the demon, "Now!" she was facing the doorway. Sam tensed as he heard more footsteps, more than one set.

"Sam…" she cooed, turning back to him, "I really wish we'd had more time. But," she sighed, shrugging her shoulders in mock disappointment, "I guess if you're going to be so impolite, I'll just cut to the chase…"

Sam's head snapped back over to the doorway as it opened with a loud bang.

"Dean!" he yelled, momentarily excited to see his brother, walking and alive.

But wait…

The light from the doorway flooded the room. Sam could now see that it was a small basement area with thick cement walls and cement floors, on which a small pool of blood had formed underneath him. The only way in or out was through the door that had just opened. But none of that really mattered right now...

A large, heavyset man walked in behind Dean. The man glanced quickly at Sam, smiling. Sam really didn't like that, but he knew that as soon as he got the chance, Dean would lay the guy flat. Dean may be smaller than the body the demon had stolen, but he had a serious right hook, and he was fast.

Sam waited as the woman went over and spoke to the man, and Dean.

_Weird..._ Dean had barely given Sam a second glance upon entering the room. Sam tried to catch his eye, but Dean was focused on whatever the Demons were saying. Then, Dean nodded.

..._What the...? _

"Hey!" Sam yelled, but none of them paid any attention, "Hey!" he tried again, "Dean!"

Nothing.

Finally, the woman walked back over to him, disappearing momentarily behind his back. There was a small _chink_ and he felt the chains that were holding his wrists fall loose.

He fell to the floor, drawing a sharp breath as his weak hands caught him. Another _chink_ and his ankles were free. He stood up shakily, eyeing the demon.

"Now don't be like that Sam," she said cocking her head to the side, "You're free to go."

Sam's eyebrows furrowed, "What?" he snapped.

"Yes, you are free to go."

Catching on Sam looked quickly to his brother, "I'm not going anywhere without him."

He wouldn't let Dean sacrifice himself for him. Not again. Whatever it took, Sam was _not_ going to leave his brother, no matter how much Dean bitched or yelled. They were leaving _together_.

A shrill, unearthly laugh echoed off the walls, "Dean? Oh Sam, your brother's free to go whenever he wants."

Sam looked from her to Dean and back, "What do you want? You didn't just bring us here to give me chaffed wrists."

She chuckled, "No… You're right there. Although you did look so adorable up there," she swiped a finger down his cheek. He slapped it away, "Sam…" she waved the finger in front of him, like he was a child being told off by a teacher, "What did I say about being polite."

Sam didn't understand, why wasn't Dean doing anything? He was just standing there.

"Dean," the demon raised her chin, tilting her head towards the older Winchester while still keeping her eyes on Sam, "You and Sam have some catching up to do don't you?"

Sam watched, confusion and fear crossing his face as his brother nodded emotionlessly, and stepped forward to stand next to the demon.

"Dean, what the hell-"

"Shut up." Dean said bluntly. And Sam did. What was wrong with his brother?

"Well," the demon smiled slyly, "I'll leave you two alone to catch up. But like I said Sam, you're both free to go whenever you want. Just walk out the door." And with that she turned and nodded forcefully to the other men, who quickly followed her out.

There was an uneasy silence. Sam couldn't understand what was going on. Why was Dean just standing there? Why was he acting like this?

"Dean…" Sam whispered apprehensively.

"Shut. Up." Dean snapped, a strange smirk crossing his lips. Slowly, Dean moved. He looked down at the floor, the same odd smile on his face. The smile didn't touch his eyes though, those were dark. Sam watched Dean as he slowly began to walk in a circle around Sam, keeping his head low.

Dean shook his head slightly, the smile widening, "Ya know Sam…" something was definitely wrong. Dean's voice was cold, bitter... _not_ Dean.

"I really used to love you."

The words caught Sam completely off-guard, "Wh-what?"

"Yep." Dean nodded, pursing his lips, "You were my little brother, Sam. I would have done _anything_ for you. I would have…" he broke off in a cold sharp laugh, "O wait, that's right-" he stopped circling and tilted his head towards Sam, dark green eyes peering up at him, "I _did _die for you."

Sam flinched. He hated that Dean had gone to Hell for him. He should have been able to save Dean. Should've been able to do something to stop it. He would never forgive himself for being such a failure.

...But, this _wasn't _Dean. Was it? There were no black eyes... But that didn't mean he wasn't possessed... No. He couldn't be - the tattoos… A shifter? But why would a shifter be working with demons?

"But honestly," Dean continued, once again sauntering around Sam, "I should have left you to die that night." Dean shook his head, Sam felt tears start to well up in his eyes.

"You're not Dean," he choked. He hated that his emotions were betraying him, but seeing Dean say that to his face... It was his worst fear realized.

Dean raised an eyebrow, smirking at Sam, "No?" he shrugged, and as he kept walking, all the while Sam watching him, Dean began to peel off the T-shirt he was wearing, pulling it over his head.

Sam watched, narrow eyes glassy, waiting for what the Dean look-alike would do next.

"Are you sure about that Sammy?" Dean did an about-face and smiled at Sam, watching him under hooded eyes.

Sam didn't reply.

His jaw clenched, the idea of someone using his brother to get to him like this pissed him off. But… The truth was he wasn't sure. He wanted to believe Dean would never say anything like that, never wish anything like that, but he wasn't sure anymore. Sam had betrayed Dean in so many ways. Let him down so many times. A lump formed in Sam's throat as he tried to remain defiant in the face of his doubt.

Dean leaned a little closer, smiling more widely, "You're not sure are you Sam?" he rocked back and let out a harsh laugh, "I am your brother. I can tell you anything about our past, everything about what has happened to us…Look-" he quickly tossed to T-shirt over in a corner. Sam noticed that the anti-possession tattoo still remained on Dean's chest... So demon was out. It could be a shapeshifter. It had to be.

"You can test me however you want, it won't work, and ya know why Sam? Because I'm your brother. And you… well…" he shook his head, "You're the only monster in this room Sammy."

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

Sam drew a shaky breath. He still didn't know what to do, or what the whole point of this was. Did the demons bring him here just to have Dean – or whatever it was – talk at him?

"Here-" Dean suddenly swooped down, grabbing something off the ground, "Think fast Sam!"

Sam reflexively caught the thing. He hissed, dropping it as pain shot through his hand. Instinctively putting pressure on his hurt palm, he looked down at the thing he had caught – it was a knife. He looked up at Dean, his eyes searching for some meaning.

"Pick it up." Dean said casually, gesturing at the knife.

Sam bent down, reaching for the handle, keeping his eyes glued on Dean. He snatched the blade from the ground, holding it up defensively.

Dean snorted.

"C'mon Sam. Why do you think I gave it to you?" Sam didn't answer, but his eyes shown with the confusion and fear that was grabbing hold of him.

"Here," Dean took a step forward, raising his hands in surrender.

"Stay back!" Sam snapped, "I don't want to hurt you Dean!"

Dean just smirked, and took another step forward, "Sam, listen to me, k? Just for a second? I know you, and I know monsters…" he chuckled, "Well, that's kinda redundant isn't it?" Sam's face flinched with hurt, "Anyways, I know what you think I might be – shapeshifter right?"

Sam stared at him. He was shaking. He understood what Dean was getting at. The silver knife. He was going to let Sam test him, but Sam wasn't sure he wanted to. If it turned out that silver didn't have any effect, then all that was left was Dean. Dean telling him he was a monster. Dean saying he wanted him dead. Dean saying that they weren't brothers anymore. Sam wasn't sure he could take that.

"C'mon Sam stop wasting time," Dean suddenly reached out, grabbing Sam's hand. Sam struggled back, taken by surprise. He struggles quickly subsided as Dean pressured the blade into his forearm. Sam watched in horror and despair as nothing happened besides a small line of blood appearing.

He closed his eyes, willing this to all be a dream. Hoping that Dean didn't really think he was a monster.

"So," Dean's voice floated back to his ears," Convinced?"  
Sam opened his eyes. The defiance he had shown the demon was gone, his will to fight nearly vanished as he was now faced with the idea that this really was Dean, and he really thought Sam was a monster.

"Why are you doing this?" Sam whispered.

"Doing what, Sam? I haven't done anything yet. Not like you…" Dean let out a low chuckle, "No, nothing like you, huh Sammy?"

Sam swallowed hard, "Dean, please –"

"No!" Dean's voice was suddenly loud and jarring, "You lost the right to ask me for anything when you chose a demon over me. Over your own brother!"  
Before Sam could react Dean marched up to him and landed a hard kick in Sam's gut.

Sam fell backwards, the oxygen leaving his lungs. Tears overflowed his eyes, from the pain or Dean's words, he wasn't sure. Sam gasped as his lungs finally reinfflated, "Yeah," Dean nodded, "That's pretty much what it feels like Sammy. Like you got kicked in the gut by your own brother. Like you can't breath. That's what betrayal feels like, Sam."

Dean's gaze was angry, uncaring. His normally bright green eyes were dark and empty.

"Dean, I'm sorry..." Sam sobbed, clutching at his stomach.

"You're sorry?!" Dean yelled, swooping down so that he was face to face with Sam. Sam couldn't bring himself to look his big brother in the eye. He closed his eyes tightly, a few more tears escaping, "You're sorry you let me go to Hell for you! You're sorry you used your freak powers after you promised you wouldn't!"

Dean grabbed Sam's chin, forcing Sam to look at him. Sam's eyes were welled up with tears. He didn't try to break free from his brother's hold, he could feel his strength slipping away, moment after moment.

"You're sorry that you called me weak! That you told me I was holding you back?!" Dean landed a quick, heavy punch on Sam's right cheek, letting the younger Winchester slump to the floor.

"I get it now though…" Dean's voice was quiet again. Sam looked up, the room was swaying but he could see Dean standing over him, not looking at him, "I get it. You couldn't help it could you? You couldn't help letting all that evil in, because, it was already in you... Even before the night that mom died, it was in you."

Sam stared up at Dean, "You're right." he said weakly, gritting his teeth. Dean was right. No matter what Sam did, everyone around him seem to get hurt… or really – killed. He didn't want to face it, but deep in his mind he knew it was true. And now Dean, his last tie to good and hope, knew it too.

"What's that?" The eldest Winchester pressed a hand to his ear, even though Sam was sure Dean had heard him.

"You're right." Sam repeated, louder this time but his voice was shaking, "I'm so- so sorry, Dean." his shoulders were shaking now, tears freely running down his cheeks, "I'm a…"

"Monster." Dean finished for him. The word made Sam flinch, but he nodded.

"Well," Dean clapped his hands, "Glad we got that settled. Now, get up."

"W-what?"

"You can still leave anytime, Sam," Dean stated, as if this was somehow obvious,"You just have to do one thing first – kill me."

Sam looked at Dean in horror, "What?!"  
"Or, I could kill you..." Dean continued as if he hadn't heard Sam, "But either way, one of us isn't making it outta here. So what's it gonna be Sammy?"

Sam stared up at his big brother. He couldn't hurt Dean, and he could never kill him. He didn't know why, but the answer seem to come easily. He didn't feel panicked. He felt like there was only one solution - and it was the solution that should've been used a while ago. Sam climbed to his knees and hung his head, "Do it."

"Really, Sam?" Dean laughed, but something was different about that laugh... That voice. "Not even gonna put up a fight? How righteous of you."

Sam's head snapped up - eyes wide in realization. The fury he'd felt earlier at the idea of a monster trying to use his brother against him - to try to use them against each other - suddenly returned ten times stronger.

"Lucifer."


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry its taken me forever and a day to update this… I've been running around the world a little bit and so my writing here has fallen to the ****back burner...**

**BUT IT'S BACK NOW! :D**

**Hope ya'll enjoy this chapter. As always reviews and suggestions are greatly appreciated.**

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS 

**Previously...**

"Really, Sam?" Dean laughed, but something was different about that laugh... That voice. "Not even gonna put up a fight? How righteous of you."

Sam's head snapped up - eyes wide in realization. The fury he'd felt earlier at the idea of a monster trying to use his brother against him - to try to use them against each other - suddenly returned ten times stronger.

"Lucifer."

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

His voice was a low growl. Every nerve in his body telling him to snap the Devil's neck. But he knew that wouldn't do a damn thing...

Well, _actually_...

"Sam..." The devil quirked Nick's head and narrowed his eyes, as if warning his child not to disobey him.

But Sam had already made up his mind. Because in truth, snapping Lucifer's neck... the simple defiance in that act... wouldn't be completely for nothing. And as his arms wrapped around the fallen angel's form, slamming him as hard as possible against the far wall, and he felt the bones in the devil's neck break-

He couldn't help but smirk with some brutal satisfaction. Even though he knew he would pay for it.

He staggered back, his chest rising and falling rapidly, the smirk staying on his lips. He was oddly close to laughing, but there was still a heaviness in his chest, weighing him down, steeling his eyes and reminding him that as much as he tried he would never be anything but evil.

He watched with bitterness as the devil in Nick's body snapped his neck back into place.

"Sam..." the fallen angel scolded, "I really wish you hadn't done that. Haven't I told you how much I just want to help you? I want to make your life better - everyone's lives better."

Sam huffed a disbelieving laugh, lips curling into a scowl and jaw locking, "You want to _kill_. Everyone."

"Now... you know that every great stride in history has required some sacrifice. But you're not really one to point fingers are you, Sammy? I mean... so many sacrifices have already been made for you. So many people have already died for you. I can stop that. I can wipe the slate clean - make the world what it should be... No war. No us versus them. You could finally have peace, Sam."

"You're lying! And I will _never_ let you near me - I will fight you until it kills me. Every time!" The devil shook his head, letting out a long sigh as though he was under some great deal of stress, only searching for understanding.

"I have never lied to you, Sam. If you really look, you'll see that." He paused, eyes raking over Sam in a way that made him want to lash out again.

"I hate seeing you like this... I really do... I hate having to go to such... reprehensible lengths to get you to change your mind. This..." He motioned to the stone walls, "Using your brother to get through to you... None of it would be necessary if you just told me where you are."

"Never. Happening." Sam spat.

The devil pursed his lips, crossing his arms in a thoughtful stance as he gazed around the room. Sam could tell it was all theatrics. Not that he cared much either way.

"So... You'll fight me to the death. No matter what, huh, Sam?" The devil's voice was colder now, "What about Dean, hm?"

Sam snapped to attention, and he couldn't help the fear that crept into his voice, "What are you talking about?"

"Well, Sam." Lucifer started, his body relaxing and his speech becoming very matter-of-fact, "You said you would fight me until it kills you - '_every time_!'" he mocked quotes with his fingers, "But what about your brother... What if, let's say, I sent Dean on a little ride like this one?" He looked up at Sam whose breath was increasingly rapid, "Think he'd catch on that it was just a little scary dream... Or would he think it was real? Would he believe me if I made it look like his baby brother wanted to kill him?"

Sam's intense gaze suddenly wavered, and he noticed his eyes starting to burn. "Don't you dare. I don't care what it takes. I don't care what I have to do. If you try to go after my brother I will find a way to rip you apart!" His voice echoed off the wall and he couldn't stop shaking - mostly from rage - but a part of him was also terrified of Lucifer's threat.

He knew that at the end of the day, if it meant saving Dean, he would do whatever it took... Including telling the devil where to find him.

But what made him feel even more desperate- more terrified than the idea of _The Devil _finding him - was the fact that he wasn't sure Dean would call the bluff. Sam was absolutely petrified that Dean would believe what Satan showed him...

The thought made his heart and lungs feel like stone: After everything he'd done, would Dean finally believe that Sam might actually try to kill him?

"No." Sam breathed, hoping he sounded a _lot _more certain than he felt.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes dangerously, the faint glow of some hellish or angelic ember burning in his irises. But instead of lashing out, instead of burning Sam's skin off or forcing him to hear his brother's hateful voice again, he sighed. "Fine. I see we aren't going to get anywhere with this lesson. Not today, anyway. But don't say I didn't warn you Sam. Things are about to get much, much worse for you... And in turn, for your brother. Sure you don't want to reconsider?"

Sam gulped, sure his face was now transparently showing his fears, but he couldn't. All he had left was fighting this. All he had was not becoming exactly what everyone thought he was - a monster. And as much as he hated the idea of exposing Dean to any of this shit, at least it wouldn't be real - even if his brother thought it was. Sam wasn't going to betray his brother this time. He had to tell himself that he could handle whatever the Devil had planned, and that he could protect his brother... Somehow.

Lucifer seemed annoyed but resigned, "Just remember, Sam. I gave you a chance." And with that Nick's finger's snapped and the room went dark.

Sam twitched and opened his eyes. It was dark, but not pitch black. There was a faint yellow light glowing a few feet in front of him. His first thought was Hellfire, but after taking a second to realize the scratchy cloth on him was actually a thin comforter like the ones in the motels he lived in, he realized the light was from the motel sign, shining through the cracks of the curtains.

He also noticed he was drenched. As he shifted, sitting up a little more and leaning his weight on his arms, drops of sweat ran down his chest and torso. His shirt was completely stuck to his back and he felt unbearably hot.

_At least it's not Hellfire hot_ he thought humorlessly.

He swung his legs out from under the stiff blankets and placed his feet on the floor, shoulders hunched and thoughts racing back to what he'd just been through - or _thought_ he'd been through.

No. He'd definitely been through something. The Devil was haunting his dreams. That counted as something.

Unsteadily he rose, swaying a little too much with each step but still managing to keep upright. He pulled his soaked grey t-shirt off over his head and threw it to the corner on his way over to the sink.

The cool water felt nothing short of amazing as it hit his warm skin. He grasped the edges of the porcelain basin, leaning forward and scrunching his eyes shut. He was exhausted. It was like he didn't even sleep. Splashing one more handful of water on his face and running his hands through his hair, he shut the faucet off and turned toward the bed. The clock on the nightstand glowed with green letters that said: 4:42.

So he had slept... He just hadn't actually gotten any rest. This whole Lucifer's Vessel thing came with some serious health issues - even aside from, ya know, being Lucifer's Vessel. He didn't know how he was supposed to keep this up.

He had been so sure that prison had been real. The demons, _Dean..._ He had been so sure Dean was really there, and _really _hated him. He cringed when he realized that the second part hadn't changed much even once he woke up.

And then he thought about Lucifer's words, about using Dean, getting into his big brother's head. The thought made him furious and also scared him to death. More so than any threat or hallucination Lucifer had yet brought down on him. He decided right then that he needed to at least warn his brother. He glanced at the clock again. Dean would not be happy if he woke him up right now... Of course, he didn't even know where his brother was so Dean could be a few hours ahead or behind him. He picked up the small black cell phone from the bedside table and considered it for a moment before putting to down again.

He'd give it a couple more hours, but no more. Decision made he slid down onto the messy bed, grabbed the remote and started flipping through channels, not really paying attention, but looking for anything to distract him from what he was about to try to explain to Dean.

_Yeah, so Lucifer's in my dreams. Oh, and I'm his vessel, so looks like we get to be on opposing teams in the biggest death match ever. And one more thing, he's gonna try to get into your head now too, because I pissed off Satan._

Yeah. This was gonna be awesome.


End file.
